Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk
by Oleander-Tea
Summary: Ichigo meets Rukia by chance at a nightclub, and a month later, she winds up in the emergency room from opium overdose. In any of the lives they've lived together, she's never asked to be saved, but Ichigo has a bad habit of playing hero, and this time, the enemy is herself. [AU/one-shot]


**Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk**

**Oleander-Tea**

Summary: Ichigo meets Rukia by chance at a nightclub, and a month later, she winds up in the emergency room from opium overdose. In any of the lives they've lived together, she's never asked to be saved, but Ichigo has a bad habit of playing hero, and this time, the enemy is herself.

Legal: Bleach is Tite Kubo's, not mine. The title of this story is a Rufus Wainwright song about cravings and addiction.

#

The first time he sees her is at some club where a DJ is playing music that is too loud and the BPM is too high and Ichigo can barely hear what the patrons were trying to order. He has been a bartender for five years now, since his senior year of high school, and though he hates this music, it's still better money than he can otherwise make on a Friday evening.

She skips over to his bar, the small one in a corner of the club, and dances to the beat of the music while waiting in line, pale skin and black hair glistening with sweat, eyes bright, all smiles, looking like a fallen angel in the laser lighting. "Ice please," she grins up at him, leaning on the bar, a calf perked in the air.

He gives her two cups of ice, and she's so short she has to get on her tippy toes to put in a dollar bill in the tip jar. No one tips on water or ice. He looks at his partner Chad, a big dark guy he's worked with for a while now, who silently nods his approval.

When Ichigo turns around, she is gone and he has other customers to attend to. She comes back all night long though, dancing in line, desiring nothing but ice from him. Sometimes he sees a group of guys huddling together, and one of them would go and talk to her, but the conversations never seem to last long. She always ends up at his bar, refusing offers for free drinks and more, content with her large cups of ice. Ichigo thinks he respects that about her; he sees may other outcomes to this scenario on a weekly basis, and he thinks his last night of bartending is truly proving more memorable than the rest.

"I should warn you," he hears her say to a man once, during a set change for the DJ. "The bartender here is my boyfriend."

She turns around to wink at him, and he throws her his best scowl, not wanting her to dissuade tips. She does this several more times in the night, and each time, she gets more and more daring. She once tells a guy that she's Ichigo's sex slave, and to another she suggests a threesome. The last time she comes, she props herself over the bar and he thinks she'll kiss him, and though he's not entirely wrong, she only ends up brushing a feather-light pair of lips over his nose. Ichigo hands her two cups of ice, and the way she smiles her gratitude, he's already forgiven her for her transgressions.

#

The first time he meets her is a day later, in a coffee shop studying for finals. He has headphones on to drown out the inane conversations that find their way to his ears, but every once in a while, he looks up from his books and notes to rest his eyes and take a break. Once, he looks up straight into pair of eyes so blue they aren't really blue but quite _violet_. Ichigo doesn't recognize her today; she's not wearing the same paper thin dress and she doesn't glow like she did last night and her eyes don't twinkle with a secret mirth begging to be indulged. She gestures to the other side of his table, and Ichigo pays her no mind, simply nodding a _yes, you can sit_, without a second glance.

An hour later, she pokes his arm. "Bartender-san," she says.

Ichigo is initially annoyed. He thinks there's no way she's stupid enough to think she's the only one, week after week, who thinks she's special for remembering his stupid hair.

"Oh get off your high horse," she smirks at him, reading his mind. "I'm Rukia. Rukia Kuchiki."

Ichigo looks up to see that she had packed up all her things already. Her hand is outstretched toward him, holding a sheet of paper, probably torn from the sketchbook in her tiny arms. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he takes it, studying the gentle lines. It's an ink sketch of a bartender behind the bar in a corner of a club. Ichigo recognizes himself immediately at the focal point of the sketch. He's leaning over the counter, wearing his trademark scowl, head propped up in one hand while the other is draped across the bar. He sees his two dimensional self staring him straight in the eye, silently asking, "What can I getcha tonight?" The picture has a scratchy signature at the bottom with today's date on it.

When Ichigo looks up again, a surprised understanding in his features, she's gone once more, her presence marked only with an iced coffee reduced to a simple glass of ice and a phone number on a napkin. He picks it up, and after a slight hesitation, puts it in his pocket, though he does not dial the number for a long, long time.

#

A month later, he sees her again, this time in the emergency room of the hospital he's working in. She's in for drug overdose, Ichigo is told by the resident he's shadowing. "Opium," Hanataro Yamada explains sadly, "She'll have to go to rehab this time when she wakes up."

"Oh and please take her history before she leaves," Hanataro adds.

Ichigo finds her chart on her bed and sees she has been in for opium overdose twice in the past month after not having any incidents for a year and a half. He watches her for a moment, sleeping off the worst of the withdrawal in a physician induced coma. She does not look peaceful or relieved of pain, her face ashen and sallow, though she is his first overdose patient, and he's not sure quite what to expect. He goes home that day and finds her sketch and napkin amongst various bills and junk mail on his kitchen counter; the way she portrayed him in the picture, he is sure she saw into his soul that night. He brings it to work and tapes it in his locker.

Rukia has several visitors throughout the coma, and Ichigo thinks none of them belonged next to the girl with the playful smiles and soul-piercing gaze. There is a redhead who looks too much like a gangster, a brother who is too stuffy, a man who is way too _pretty_, and once, a woman with bandages all over her wild black hair who nearly ran out of the room when Ichigo walked in.

She wakes up three days after her arrival and the history isn't as easy as most patient histories go. Her face is pained and she keeps grabbing onto her sheets, clenching her fists, and Ichigo can tell though the coma may have been the most painful part of this process, Rukia has a long ways to go before she can wake up and look forward to the day ahead.

"Hello Rukia," he begins, unsure of whether or not she remembers him. "My name is Ichigo Kurosaki. I'm a first year medical student, and I'd like to ask you a few questions today."

She doesn't look him for a long time, her fists balling uncontrollably.

Ichigo plows through his canned questions, "Can you tell me what happened before you ended up here?"

She opens her mouth several times, but nothing comes out. Ichigo is about to ask her if she wants some water when she finally spoke.

"Get out," she whispers hoarsely, and he doesn't know if it's from three days of vocal negligence or if Rukia simply lacked the strength for projection. "I can't… tell what's real," she continues. "But I wouldn't want either of you here right now."

"We're trying to help," Ichigo says, and he's sure her use of "either of you" and his use of "we" referred to completely different people. He doesn't know what else to say and feels inadequate because he doesn't understand her words or how she feels right now, and he doesn't want to tell her that she'll get better, because he doesn't know that she would, and more importantly, he doesn't want her to think that it would be an easy path ahead.

When she looks at him, Ichigo doesn't recognize the empty lilac eyes, focused not on him but the ghosts he cannot see. "I am beyond help," she sneers.

Her voice sounds so frail and pained that he leaves her alone, almost doubting the memory of the girl in the nightclub. He tells Hanataro this, and the resident's sleepily passive face twitches in surprise.

"That's not like her," he says, tapping a pen on her chart. "Last time we detoxed her, she powered through it like a champ."

Hanataro tells him to wait outside and goes in to talk to Rukia alone. Ichigo watches them from a window, and every few minutes, Rukia turns to look at him, her face getting paler and paler every time. He waves at her once, putting on his best patient smile, but she frowns, hugging her sheets closer to her thin body. Ichigo knows to not take it personally, but the action itself still stung in stark contrast to the ghostly feel of her lips on his nose. When he emerges, Hanataro shrugs and tells Ichigo that she'll be transferred to a rehab facility the next day anyway, so there's no reason to worry over her.

#

Ichigo doesn't try to talk to Rukia again before she leaves the hospital, but he keeps her picture in his locker. Once a week, he allows himself to wonder how she's doing, but doctors (or medical students) aren't really supposed to follow up personally with patients. Sometimes he tells himself that she wasn't really his patient anyway, but he still waits a month before looking up her rehab clinic. He shows up on a Saturday and tells the staff that he's a medical student and he would very much like to observe the patients and volunteer a few hours of his time please. They have him on the lunchtime pill duty, and when he's finished, they allow him to sit in on a few therapy sessions for the rest of the afternoon.

He has already bid his farewells to the friendly staff when he walks past the activity room and finally sees Rukia standing by a window painting on an easel. He watches for a while and decides she looks much healthier than she did in the hospital. Though he cannot see her face, her movements are no longer jagged or twitchy. Her painting of the garden outside the window is spectacularly beautiful, and while it doesn't quite look placid, it's also not distressed. A few minutes later, just when Ichigo thinks his gaze will bear a hole through her body, she turns around and drops her brush in surprise, painting an olive green stripe down her leg.

A slow smile skips across her lips but does not stay, "Bartender-san."

He decides to eat dinner with her at the clinic, claiming she was an "old friend," to which Rukia does not deny. The chicken is bland, the green beans half raw, and the rice dry, but he does not complain. The sunset in the garden is more peaceful than he thinks she needs, but he reminds himself that he doesn't really know her at all, not yet anyway. He talks to Rukia about her recovery at first because it's what he knows and is comfortable with, and Rukia seems content to say she's better and sees clearly and hardly has much pain now. She seems quiet, much less daring than the night he first interacted with her, though thankfully much more alive than she was in the hospital.

Ichigo can tell her mind still has trouble focusing, and maybe to distract her from those stray thoughts, or maybe because he felt an odd sense of serenity with her, he eventually tells her of medical school and the seemingly endless chapters he must read and commit to memory and always feeling inadequate when talking to patients because he doesn't understand their plights. He tells her about his crazy family, with a father who is bordering on insanity and two little sisters who had to grow up much too quickly. He doesn't bring up his mother, and she doesn't ask, but Rukia listens with a thoughtful wrinkle of the eyebrow, and when he's done unloading a decade's worth of stress and anxiety on her, he wonders if he's gotten more out of dinner than she has.

"I was wrong about you," she says when he's about to leave. "You …reminded me of an old friend. But I don't think you're anything alike."

Ichigo recognizes there's a significance of her confession but doesn't yet understand the meaning behind it. He trusts her to tell him in her own time, and meanwhile, he returns to the clinic, whenever he gets the chance, for the next two weeks until Rukia's release. He sometimes tells himself he enjoys the time he spends here with the clinic staff and he does learn to make very real connections with the patients, not just Rukia, and he needs the volunteer hours anyway. And if he also has the added bonus of sunset garden dinners with a fallen angel, then who was he to complain?

#

When Rukia's time is up at the clinic, Ichigo can't make it for her departure. He's waited a month before finally digging out the old wrinkled napkin, and he fidgets with it for almost thirty minutes before taking a big breath and punching the number into his phone. He doesn't quite know what he'll say to her, but as it turns out, he doesn't have to.

"We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

He dials the number again anyway, and when he receives the same message, he slams his phone on the counter in frustration.

#

A few months later, Ichigo is peer pressured into going out on a date with a pretty girl in his school's pharmacy branch. She's beautiful and well-endowed and has a personality to boot, but Ichigo doesn't think she's the one for him. When he picks her up, Orihime Inoue is wearing a classy little black dress that makes her more seductive than she appears, despite fully covering her chest, and he's thankful for her modesty.

She wants to go to an art gallery opening on the hip side of town. They arrive late, but there are still plenty of people wandering around the renovated warehouse. Some artist named Yumichika Ayasegawa has a new collection out on peacocks, and Orihime has always loved his previous work, for she thinks they're the most beautiful artwork anyone has ever produced, full of color and life and positivity. She says this to Ichigo, and he thinks she might be correct. The large canvases in front of them are all variations on different parts and perspectives of various peacocks, fantastically executed in bright watercolors.

"That's a complete load of shit," he hears an oddly familiar voice behind them. "Yumichika is full of vanity, not positivity."

Ichigo whirls around, eyes wide in surprise, a finger pointing accusingly, "You!"

Rukia is standing with a champagne glass in one hand, hips cocked, an almost devilish grin on her face. She's next to the beautiful man Ichigo remembers at her bedside when she was in a coma.

"It's not vain to appreciate beauty, Rukia-chan," he drawls.

Ichigo sees Orihime's jaw drop, "_You're_ Yumichika Ayasegawa?"

Yumichika hands her his hand, and Ichigo is amused when Orihime kisses it without question, "One and the same. Would you like a personal tour, Miss…?"

"Orihime Inoue," she breathes, and then turns to Ichigo. "Wait, how do you know these people?"

He almost tells her the truth, but Rukia cuts in, "We're old friends."

"Yeah," he adds, remembering that though she was not quite his patient, he probably still shouldn't disclose her medical secrets. "We met when I used to be a bartender."

A few quick seconds of introductions later, and Yumichika is leading Orihime away, "Meet at the centerpiece!"

When he speaks to Rukia again, he's surprised that his voice is tinged with a hint of whine, "Where have you been?"

She walks to stand next to him, facing the peacock before them, "For many people, rehab isn't as simple as not disappearing into the closest opium den and smoking until you can't breathe anymore," she whispers, but her eyes are dancing with life that he remembers from the first night he saw her.

"You changed your number," Ichigo continues, because he doesn't understand addiction and because, somewhere deep inside, maybe he's hurt by her silent disappearance from his life.

She smiles at him ruefully, "I needed a change."

Then she hands him a business card, on which she writes another number on, "Here. Call me some time."

_Rukia Kuchiki  
>Graphic Designer<br>Gotei13_

"You're a graphic designer?" Ichigo is surprised this has never come up in conversation before. "How long?"

"Only when I'm desperate," she winks at him. "I'm an artist. I've lost inspiration recently. Design work pays the bills."

Ichigo remembers the drawing taped to his locker and the painting of the clinic garden, and he thinks that he'd like to see what she can do when she _is_ inspired. They walk around the gallery speaking of irrelevant things and talking about what they've been doing the past few months before heading toward the last piece at the corner of the warehouse.

"Oi, Rukia!" the redhead from Rukia's coma days at the hospital is walking over briskly. "We gotta go set up the after party, what the hell are you doing still here?"

"Gotta run," she says to Ichigo, and he doesn't like the redhead and how he so pushes her around by the shoulders and especially how easily Rukia just _lets him_.

"Um, bye?" Ichigo mumbles.

The last he sees of her, she's waving back at him, a mysterious smile on her lips, "Have a good date."

Right. Orihime. Centerpiece.

When he meets Orihime and Ayasegawa at the last watercolor, she's staring at it in shock, and Ichigo has a good idea why. This piece was different from the rest; on display is a snow white peacock in partial flight, wings outstretched, in contrast to the colorful close ups of birds on the other paintings. The whole peacock is bursting from a ball of fire, not unlike a phoenix's rebirth, beak open, screeching with an intensity that's not just beauty but hope, wonder, and resilience.

Ichigo doesn't think he's ever understood art as well as he does right now, in this moment, reading the small plaque on the bottom of the painting titled "_Rukia_."

#

When Ichigo takes Orihime home, he doesn't kiss her goodnight but instead settles for an awkward hug at her doorsteps. He waits until the next day, invites her out to coffee, gently tells her that he doesn't think things will work out the way she wants, and that he's sure she deserves someone who has as much devotion to her as she does to him.

She smiles sadly at him, but it looks genuine, "I thought you'd say as much. I just had to give it a try, you know?"

He thinks he does know, and he calls Rukia that night.

#

Ichigo brings Chad with him, and they finally meet the redhead. His name is Renji Abarai, and Ichigo doesn't think he's so bad anymore after finding out he has a girlfriend who looks and acts nothing like Rukia. Matsumoto Rangiku is a tall, blond swimsuit model, and when he first meets her, Ichigo has to remember gaping at girls is universally considered creepy. He also meets Yumichika's boyfriend Ikkaku Madarame, and the woman with bandages wrapped around her hair is introduced as Shiba Kuukaku. Ichigo is glad she seems less likely to run away this time.

They end up going to a wine bar, and there are twenty empty bottles of wine at their table at the end of the night. Ichigo doesn't ever remember feeling so comfortable with a bunch of strangers before, but he probably also hasn't gotten this drunk with strangers before either. Rangiku pays for the whole thing, claiming that she's feeling generous after landing a few spreads in a big name magazine, but chances are high she might be the only one sober enough to remember having to pay before leaving.

Chad is the first to go home since he lives a few blocks away from the bar. Kuukaku, Rukia, Yumichika, and Renji all share a house not too far away, and they kindly offer Ichigo a couch to crash on for the night. Ichigo hesitantly agrees, mainly because he's really not sure how else he's to end up in his own home.

Rukia and her roommates live in an old house built in the 1960s that looks to have been recently remodeled. There is an open living room with four couches surrounding a coffee table Renji has built, and their walls are adorned with artwork Yumichika and Rukia have architected together. Kuukaku is a lighting engineer and constructed specialized system throughout their entire house. Ichigo doesn't remember ever seeing a place like this before in his seemingly simple straight edged life, but he also probably hasn't ever met people quite like these before either.

As he's still drunkenly taking in the cove, Rukia bounces up and kisses him sloppily before skipping off to her own bed, leaving Ichigo to stand in the dark for a few stunned seconds, fingers at his tingling lips, struggling to make the appropriate decision to not follow a drunken girl into her bed.

#

A week later, Rukia invites him out to a club with another famous DJ playing. He hesitantly agrees and subsequently balks when she offers him molly on the subway over, caught between being a good friend by oppressing her or inciting her.

"I thought you're not doing drugs anymore!" He takes a deep breath and mumbles, "You at least shouldn't be."

She simply shrugs and pops the pill in her mouth.

An hour into the show, Rukia runs back to the group with two large cups of ice and hands one to her friends. They each grab a handful and rub the ice all over each other's skin, and Ichigo thinks he may have walked in on a weird ice cult, but when Rukia turns and smiles at him like she did the first night, water dripping down around her neck into the crease between her breasts, his heart skips a beat and he can't help but smile back.

She feeds him gin all night long, and Ichigo thinks the music isn't so bad after all, especially with Rukia dancing in front of him, the way her body sways, it's almost to the beat of his heart. She eventually turns around, putting a hand on his shoulder, and slowly dances on him. The liquid courage she poured into him instructs him to slither an arm around her tiny waist, but his feet are still awkward, and Ichigo doesn't quite know if she's happy with what he can offer her. At home after the show, the roommates, Madarame, and Matsumoto all end up in a big messy pile on the couches for the rest of their ecstasy high, and though Ichigo's sense aren't beguiled like theirs, they welcome him into their "love nest."

They repeat this dance the next weekend, and then Rukia begins to show up at the hospital for lunch every Monday and Thursday. A few months later, Ichigo is certain that everyone at the hospital thinks she's his girlfriend, and he can't help but hear their whispers of what a cute couple they are and how Ichigo _smiles_ when he's with her, which only serve to frustrate him to no end that when it comes down to it, their relationship is so straightforwardly platonic.

The first time Ichigo jerks off to the thought of Rukia's naked body writhing in pleasure below his own, he sleeps sounder than he has for months, and when he sees her again that weekend, he can tell he is _that much more_ relaxed around her. That night, they get back to Rukia's, and she changes up the routine by dragging a stupefied Ichigo into her room and _jumping_ him, her tongue hot and needy in his mouth. He's surprised for a quick second, but he lifts her up, her legs wrapping around him _so naturally_ he pushes her into a wall, kissing her back, harder than he's kissed anyone else before. Through the gin induced numbness, he feels both his chest and his groin tighten with desire.

Ichigo thinks that maybe this isn't the absolute best night of his life, but it's damned close, and though he's too afraid to say it, he thinks he's falling in love with her.

He lifts her top over her head and takes a second to stare at her bare chest, skin almost translucent in the night, her modest breasts rising and falling with her breathing. He kisses one and palms the other, and her skin is soft and supple, syrupy with sweat. A fragment of his murky brain wonders if he's taking advantage of a girl on ecstasy, but another fragment remembers how she easily she deflects unwanted attention, and when low rumble escapes Rukia's throat above his head, Ichigo thinks he's lost himself completely and there's no coming back. He throws her unceremoniously onto her bed, strips off her pants as well as his own, and climbs on top of her. He craves her skin on his. He wants to live out his dirty fantasies, commit each and every treasured detail to memory; he wants to hear her scream with the passion of Yumichika's _Rukia_ effigy.

When he finishes, he's too drunk and sleepy and content to pay heed to Rukia's apologetic murmur of "Kaien…" before drifting off to sleep.

#

Ichigo wakes up at 6 AM the next morning; he always wakes up at 6 AM nowadays because of school, but this morning, he has a smile on his lips despite the pounding headache and reaches for Rukia, only to find her missing. He sits halfway up and confirms that he is, in fact, in Rukia's room, the musky smell of last night's activities still clinging to the sheets and pillows.

Unsure of what else to do, Ichigo gets dressed and calls a cab home.

#

A month later, Kuukaku Shiba shows up at the hospital on his break and forces Ichigo to follow her to lunch. He's been avoiding her calls and deleting Renji's texts this whole time, but apparently they didn't get the hint. She tell him that Rukia is still gone, since the last night Ichigo spent with her, and that she's not picking up her phone or replying to emails, but they think she's okay anyway, because her phone at least still rings.

"We even called her brother to ask about her, but he either doesn't know or he won't tell us where she is. Then we thought maybe she ran off with you," Kuukaku explains, but seeing the pained expression on his face, she concedes, "But I guess we were wrong."

"Yeah," Ichigo says, not bothering to mask the hurt in his tone, "She left me too."

Rukia's friends weren't the only ones trying to get in touch with her, after all.

Kuukaku debates herself for a moment before she whips out her wallet, removes a small photo, and hands it to him. "This," she says, "is Shiba Kaien. He's my older brother. He started dating Rukia when they were in high school, and it lasted up until two years ago, when he died in this terrible accident. Rukia… she was driving, and she's never forgiven herself."

Ichigo sees the resemblance in the photo, if he squints, but the dark pride in his heart tells him that he's better looking than this loser anyway, and he's surprised by the bitter selfishness in his chest. His ears hear Rukia's whisper from the rehab clinic gardens.

"_I was wrong about you," she says when he's about to leave. "You …reminded me of an old friend. But I don't think you're anything alike."_

He thinks he understands better now, why she overdosed the first time, two years ago, and why she overdosed again, when she first met Ichigo. He thinks he understands why talking to her was so difficult after waking her up from the coma. And he's not happy by it, but he thinks he understands why she flirted with him all night at the club the very first time and then fucked his brains out and ran off a month ago.

"This probably wasn't the best way to tell you about him, about _them_," Kuukaku continues. "I'm not giving excuses for Rukia, but she's been battling these demons for a long time now. Renji agrees too, but I haven't seen her as normal as she is when she's with you."

She looks at him pointedly, and Ichigo hands back the photograph of Shiba Kaien, not the least bit comforted by her words, "I'm not him. I'm nothing like him."

Kuukaku gets up to leave, "I know you're not, and to be honest, Rukia knows this better than either of us. Just, when she comes back, give her a chance."

Ichigo thinks that if he were her, he wouldn't ever come back, but he doesn't say this aloud to Kuukaku. Instead, he thanks her for lunch and hopes that she understands his gratitude for some insight on Rukia's life, because, in his heartbreak, he thinks lord knows that this strange girl doesn't know how to open up anything but her tantalizing legs.

#

A year later, Ichigo receives an invitation in the mail for a gallery opening.

_Phoenix Rising by Rukia Kuchiki_.

So she has returned.

Though he's functionally forgotten Rukia over the past year, he still wants to shred the invitation and burn the pieces; instead, he puts it with the rest of his unopened mail and decides he'll think on it later.

#

Ichigo is surprised to hear from Orihime a week later, asking if he's going to Rukia's show. He briefly wonders if she's asking him out on a date again, but she quickly adds, "I'm dating someone now, so don't worry about anything …weird."

As it turns out, she's dating Uryuu Ishida, one of Ichigo's childhood rivals in karate tournaments. From what Ichigo remembers of him, he thinks they're a good match and could probably last a while, if not for life. He makes Orihime plead a little before agreeing to go; he feels comfortable with having an evening out with his friends, and if they just happen to wander into Rukia's gallery opening, then so be it.

At their arrival, Yumichika and Ikkaku greet them at the door with champagne. Ichigo stiffly says hello, having drifted apart from Rukia's friends; being with them was too painful without her presence. He pretends to not care when Yumichika explains that, she was hiding in a family cabin up the mountains working on this collection for the past year, and she's now taking some reporters around.

"It's been over three years since her last show," he's beaming. "Rukia-chan is hailed as one of the most talented Karakura has to offer, and at such a young age too! The art community is quite enthralled with our little celebrity."

Ichigo doesn't ask if Yumichika is pissed she ran off without a word to _paint_, of all things, that she couldn't be bothered to answer the phone or send a letter or anything, for a fucking _year_. If he thought he was over it before, his silent anger proves his naivete.

However, Yumichika is right about her celebrity status, and again, Ichigo is surprised this is something he doesn't already know. People talk excitedly in front of every painting in the hall, and emotional murmurs reach Ichigo's ears as they stroll through the gallery. Though he can't tell that what's in front of him is significantly better than many other pieces of artwork, he does know people well enough by now to realize that the experts are eating this up like it's the last morsel of food in a famine.

While standing next to a piece that makes him feel like he's at the edge of a cliff, and for some godforsaken reason, he _wants_ to jump, Ichigo also has the crazy realization that he finally understands the power of art therapy for many psychiatric patients. Whereas Yumichika's work was beautiful in his use of vibrant colors, Rukia's was daunting in her use of contrast. He doesn't know art any better now than he did a year ago at Yumichika's show, but he thinks he _gets_ the thirty abstract paintings before him. They tell a story, he realizes as he walks through the show. He stops by another piece wild with reds and browns threaded together and fraying, and partially entwined was a thin golden shimmer desperately trying to prevent a whole structural breakdown, and he almost feels how difficult and painful it must all be.

Eventually Renji shows up leading a flustered Rukia by the arm, and Yumichika practically shoos everyone away, leaving Rukia and Ichigo alone in a corner. He stares at her, at a loss for words, as she shifts uncomfortably in high heels and a shimmery white dress. He thinks she looks something like a real angel, but that was stupid, and he's still mad at her, goddammit, so he doesn't say it aloud.

"Hey Ichigo," she smiles. Her voice sounds strong and her eyes are powerful, and Ichigo doesn't remember ever seeing her like this before, so confident and self-assured without the aid of drugs.

"I… I'm sorry," she says.

He wants to ask her if she even knows what she's sorry for, but that sounds girly and bitchy, so he just doesn't say anything at all. His heart is pounding more and more loudly in his ears, and he thinks he wants to run like Rukia always does, but the difference between them is that his feet root him solidly to the ground before her.

She regards him with those stormy violet eyes and runs a hand through her hair, looking away, "I was sick. I wasn't myself. I'm better now, I think, and I know you might not get everything here, but this show, I've been working on it since that night, and it's my heart and soul, and I just _really_ had to get it all sorted out first, before…"

Before what, she does not say.

"Thanks for coming," she whisks a stray hair away and looks back into his eyes. There's a small crease between her brows, and Ichigo resists and almost controllable urge to smooth it out. "I wanted to tell you everything, but I didn't know how, Ichigo. Words don't come easily to me. Maybe this would be a good place to start."

He decides on honesty. "You hurt me."

And maybe it means more to her than it does to him him to bare her heart and soul in the form of paints, but he prefers his words.

"I know," she whispers. "I've made a lot of mistakes in the past few years."

The look of anguish on her face breaks Ichigo's heart all over again, but he doesn't back down, he _can't_ back down.

"Yes you have," he's careful to keep his face blank. He recognizes his words are harsh, but he needs her to feel the pain that he, _Ichigo_, feels, not the pain she feels for Kaien, and especially not the pain she must imagine Kaien's spirit to feel for her. For a brief moment, he thinks she'll flee again, the way her face contorts at his ugly words, but perhaps for the first time since he's known her, she stands her ground.

"Look Ichigo," she sighs. "I really am sorry. I can't change what happened in the past, and I wish I could, but I think the best option here is to move forward."

She pauses for a moment, and then whispers, "No more games, Ichigo. I really like you. Simple as that."

He thinks about the past year, how he thought he was moving forward, only to be dragged back to the same spot with Rukia on some dirty dance floor with marginally tolerable music. Only… Only this time, he thinks, she really will move with him, rather than run from him, and maybe that's enough.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness right now," Rukia takes a step toward him, a hand reaching for his wrist, and when they touch, Ichigo's heart explodes. "But how do you feel about dinner tomorrow?"

He looks into her eyes and sees her resolution. Maybe he would say no, but she would simply be there again, tomorrow, to see if he would do lunch the next day. The day after, maybe she would bring him coffee before he has to leave for work and be there when he returns. Though her eyes don't show him the future, in the past year, he's grown enough to recognize that despite having desperately tried to leave her behind, he will never quite be complete without her.

"Pick you up at 7?" he finally folds.

Rukia's smile is both mischievous and euphoric and as he carefully drapes an arm over her shoulder and nuzzles the top of her head, he is absolutely ecstatic he cannot see the future, because he'd much rather live it out, day by day, moment by moment, as long as he has her at his side.

#

Notes: Ugh, I know I should be working on The Courier right now, but I got this idea stuck in my head, and I couldn't move on without getting it down on (electronic) paper. It's a little different from the more action-driven themes I'm typically more drawn to; what do you guys think? Too sappy?

Also, shameless plug, if you haven't yet, go read The Courier!


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